I'd wait forever
by cassiemortmain
Summary: A collection of short Sybil x Tom stories, mainly modern AU. New chapter - Tom Branson can't believe he's a father... season 3 AU
1. I hate Valentine's Day

_Author's note_

A Sybil x Tom Rock the Valentine AU fic. Dedicating this to everyone in our lovely fandom to thank you for all your support over the last year since I joined Tumblr!

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**I hate Valentine's Day**

Sybil opened one eye and immediately regretted it - _Christ, it's so bright in here! Oh my head... _

She opened the other eye and worked out why the sun was streaming into her room - she wasn't actually in her room. She half sat up and saw she was in her underwear, covered by a duvet in a blue and white check cover she didn't recognise.

_Where the bloody hell am I?_

Getting up, she found a white robe on a hook behind the door. She put it on and went through the door to find herself in a spacious, bright living room.

"Umm, hello?"

No answer. She smelt the blessed aroma of fresh coffee, so she followed her nose towards the kitchen. There, she learned she was not alone...

"Hello."

He was tall enough that she had to look up to see his face. His Henley t-shirt, worn with striped pajama bottoms, defined his well muscled shoulders and chest, while his fair hair, messed up from sleep, was falling into his eyes, eyes so blue they hurt. _Wow, he is hot - what a sight to wake up to!_

"How are you doing, Sybil?" His lips curved in a smile.

"Sorry, umm, this must sound really stupid, but I have no idea who you are or why I'm here..." Her hands moved in an uncertain gesture, pushing her fringe back from her face.

"We met last night at the Rose &amp; Crown. Don't you remember?"

The name of Sybil's favourite local pub started a chime in her mind. "I think so - how did we meet again?"

"You tripped and fell into my lap and spilled a tray of tequila shots all over me."

"Oh God, how embarrassing! I'm so sorry..." Again she made that uncertain gesture with her hands as she got a flashback…

_Sitting at a table with Anna and Gwen and a few other people, drinking way too much, gesticulating wildly, pontificating loudly about God knows what, going to the bar to get more drinks and then..._

"Tom, it's Tom."

"Sorry again, Tom. God, I feel awful - is there anything that needs drycleaning?"

"Don't worry about it, Sybil - it's all in the machine, it'll be fine. No harm, no foul."

That smile again - this time, a small electric shock danced its way down her spine and she couldn't help smiling back.

"And then you said something about how much you hated Valentine's Day. A guy called Larry, I think, got a bit of a serve?"

"Oh shit. Sorry, yes, we were all out for an anti-Valentine's drink or six so I could rain abuse on my ex, basically - long story. Short version is he cheated on me and I found out, and he dumped me to be with her."

"What an idiot." Sybil wasn't sure if that was what he said - it was almost under his breath.

"Want some coffee?" Tom reached for the stovetop percolator.

"I'd give my right arm for a cup."

"No need to go that far. Milk and sugar?"

"No thanks - black is good."

Pouring coffee into a Manchester United mug, he handed it to her. Their fingertips touched as she took it - perhaps for longer than was strictly necessary.

Without asking, he shook out a couple of Nurofen from the bottle on the counter - "Just in case". She sipped her coffee and swallowed the Nurofen.

"Tom, this is an awful thing to have to ask, but - I'm at your place, in my underwear..."

"No, Sybil - nothing happened, don't worry. When a woman throws up and then passes out, it's not really on the agenda."

She closed her eyes in mortification - _Oh my God! How much did I have to drink last night?_

"After I put you to bed, I slept on the couch. I just took off your shoes, you must have taken your clothes off yourself during the night."

"I threw up? Really?"

"Yes, but don't worry - it happens to the best of us. Hope your hair is OK."

"My hair?"

"I held it back for you."

_Larry would never have done that for me in a million years..._

She took another sip of coffee. "Would it be OK if I took a quick shower? My mouth feels like the bottom of a canary's cage."

"Sure - help yourself. Towels are in the cupboard in the hall - and I can see you already found a robe." His eyes twinkled at her in a way that sent butterflies fluttering through her stomach.

Five minutes later, Sybil was back, her hair wet and dripping over the shoulders of the borrowed robe. Tom had moved into the living room by then - he had taken their coffee mugs to the table by the window, and was reading the paper.

"Anything interesting?"

"Hi - feeling better?"

"Thanks - much better. Hope you don't mind - I'm still wearing your robe, I couldn't seem to find my clothes anywhere."

"S'OK. I'm just looking to see if my article made the front page."

"Your article? Are you a journalist?" Another chime in her mind - _The Guardian_, home affairs desk or maybe justice?

"Yes! Found it. Wait till I show my mother - this is my first front page."

"Tom, that's brilliant - congratulations."

He handed the paper over to her. She scanned it and, sure enough, there was his byline - Tom Branson.

"I like the photo - very serious looking."

"Yeah, you have to get suited up for it, which is funny as I never wear a suit to work, and they don't let you smile either."

"That's a shame..." She picked up her coffee mug again in both hands, cradling it, and he grinned at her as he realised what she meant.

"Tom, I have to ask - how did I get here?"

"After we had been talking for a bit, you realised you had lost your wallet. You couldn't find your friends, so I brought you back here to lend you a tenner to get home, as I didn't have any more cash on me. When you came in... well, the rest is history. But the main thing is, you're OK."

She slurped down the rest of her coffee, feeling awkward and fluttery - _Gutted I already blew it with this guy - not just gorgeous but really sweet, too..._

"I should probably get out of your hair… I'm sure you've got things to do."

"No hurry, really. I was just going to make a bacon sandwich - want one?"

"Actually, that would be brilliant. With lots of brown sauce, please."

"Brown sauce? Ah, that's so wrong - bacon sandwiches should only be eaten with ketchup."

"Are we really going to have a debate about our condiment philosophies?" They exchanged smiles - _Is he flirting with me?_

"You stay put, Sybil - it'll only take a minute."

He went back into the kitchen - soon, an appetising aroma was filtering through the flat and Sybil surprised herself by feeling hungry.

"There you go." Tom put a plate in front of her. She immediately picked up the sandwich and took a bite.

"This is fantastic - thank you so much!" Her voice was slightly muffled through the large mouthful she was chewing.

"You're welcome - I don't often have guests for breakfast, so I thought I'd push the boat out."

They ate and talked - about life, the universe and everything. They laughed more than their fair share, and their eyes met with increasing frequency, leaving her breathless by the last time. _Am I imagining this? I haven't felt this much chemistry with a guy since - I don't know when... maybe never?  
_

He went back to the kitchen to make a second cup of coffee for them, and when he came back he set them both down in front of his place.

She stood up and walked over to him, then stopped. He looked up at her, flashing that smile again - "Anything wrong, Sybil?"

"I don't suppose..."

He turned his chair towards her and reached out his hand - "Come here to me - you weren't so shy last night..."

She took it and he pulled her into his lap. They looked at each other -

"It wasn't anything like this last night, was it?"

"Sybil, last night was amazing, because I met you. Don't worry about the rest of it."

"Oh, Tom..."

Their eyes locked. Sybil put her hand on Tom's stubbly cheek and stroked down to his chin before letting it come to rest on his throat. She felt his arm tighten around her back, while his other hand ran up her thigh to her waist and settled there. Leaning down to him, she cupped the back of his head as their lips met...

Their kiss was gentle at first, but it soon deepened and she heard herself moan as his tongue slid into her mouth. She closed her eyes and sank further into his lap, savouring the trembly, excited feelings running all through her...

After several minutes, their lips parted. She slowly opened her eyes and she saw he was smiling as widely as she was.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Sybil."

"Same to you, Tom - Can I take you out for lunch, or something, to say thank you?"

"That's be great."

"Could you lend me that tenner to pay for it?"

He pulled her into another kiss, more intense and even longer than the last one. Once they finally broke apart, breath ragged, he didn't move away, running his mouth along her jaw and kissing down her throat to her collarbone. From his racing heart beneath her fingers, she could tell that he was feeling the same way she was...

Feeling daring, she pushed his robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to her waist. His eyes widened as he realised she wasn't wearing anything underneath.

"Sybil, have you any idea how gorgeous you are? I wanted to kiss you as soon as I saw you last night."

"I have a better idea - let's dial out for lunch."

"Yes, OK, later on, much later, mmmm..." he murmured against her breasts...

_Ohhhh - maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad after all!_

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_A/N -_

Thanks to angiemagz for the awesome manip that accompanied this story on Tumblr - you'll probably recognise the original image from the last scene of _Silver Linings Playbook_. I've wanted to write something like this fic ever since I read chapter 129 of Love's Journey... so thanks also to Yankee Countess for her inspiration.

I tend to write a lot of one-shot ficlets for our lovely couple, and some people have been kind enough to suggest I collect them here. I decided to create two collections for these stories - you might have already come across my M-rated story collection, called "Tonight or Tomorrow" - well, here's its T-rated counterpart, which I have named "I'd Wait Forever". I will gradually bring over the backset of short one-off fics I've posted on Tumblr, to bring them all together in these collections.

Erin go Bragh! will continue as the main place for my period/canon era short fics (non-M rated), so this new collection will be mainly modern, and I may perhaps throw in a few other time periods - past and future - if I get inspired!

Thanks as always for your support of my writing! Would love to know what you think. :)


	2. Shall we dance?

_Author's note -_

Thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this collection so far! I really love to hear from you - it's so inspiring. :)

A modern AU Sybil and Tom ficlet that was first published on Tumblr a while ago, which I am now bringing over here to find it a home on ff. It was inspired by the beautiful picture of Sybil x Tom dancing which I used to illustrate it on Tumblr, which was created by the very talented piperholmes (who kindly gave me permission to use it). Thank you!

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**Shall we dance?**

"Slow, slow, quick quick slow..."

The look of concentration on Tom's face made Sybil laugh. "Sweetheart, this is meant to be fun!"

"Mmm - fun for who? Don't distract me, Sybil - I'm trying to count," he grinned.

They danced around the small studio to the insistent rhythms of the music, along with a few other couples, mainly beginners who were as hesitant as they were. Sybil loved to dance and had always wanted to learn the tango, so when she won the free lesson in the daycare raffle she couldn't resist giving it a try.

She had managed to convince Tom to come along, under the guise of "date night". Now that Michael was starting to walk, they didn't get much time to themselves, and once Matthew and Mary had offered to babysit, offering the excited little boy a cousins' sleepover with George, it was an offer too good to refuse.

Sybil had fun getting dressed up for the night, putting on her favourite red lipstick and a pair of shoes that made her husband grin suggestively - "You can leave those on when we get home later..."

Their teacher clapped her hands - "Good, very good, but don't forget - the tango is all about the embrace! Gentlemen, hold your partners so they feel secure, but always free to move."

Tom was trying to look serious as they stepped back and forth together, bodies pressed close, but he couldn't help a little smile breaking out as he trod on her toe for the third time in as many minutes - "Sorry, love, you know I am useless at this - I'm no dancer."

"That's not true - we danced the night away at our wedding!"

"Ah but that's because it was a ceilidh - that comes naturally to me," said Tom as he spun Sybil around and then dipped her.

Her long hair trailed towards the floor as she almost fell over, giggling. "Don't drop me, you muppet!"

With a wink, he pulled her back up. He slid his arm further around her waist and pulled her more deeply into him - "I do like the idea of the tango being all about the embrace, though… come here, you."

She could feel his heart beating against her own as he looked intently into her eyes. "I love you, Mrs Branson. Did I ever tell you that?"

"Mmm yes, maybe, once in a while. I love you too, Mr Branson."

"God knows, I can't blame you - sure, aren't I lovely."

She swatted his chest - "Watch it, cheeky - I might just accept the offer of that charming gentleman over there who kissed my hand when he asked me to dance with him."

Together, they turned to look at the old couple next to them, moving as if they had been doing that same dance together all their lives - so perfectly in sync with each other, they didn't even need to speak.

Sybil sighed, sounding a little wistful - "They are really sweet, aren't they - I wonder if we will be like them when we are old and grey."

Tom looked down at his wife - God, he loved her so much! Life was so busy these days and he wondered sometimes if he told her often enough how essential she was to him. She wasn't only his lover, she was also his best friend, who loved him for who he was, who always had his back and who encouraged him to be his best self. His face moved down to hers, coming within a breath of her lips.

"Darling, I promise you - I will love you, just the way I do now, until I die," he whispered. "Now, can I kiss you, for feck's sake?"

"What are you waiting for - a written invitation?"

They kept rocking slowly as their lips met - she closed her eyes and tightened her arms around him, feeling his tongue slide into her mouth and hearing him moan softly - "Mmmmm".

The silk of her dress slipped smoothly beneath his hands as he moved them gently up and down her back, feeling her warm skin through the fabric as he caressed her. The music was still swirling around them, and the other dancers gave them some room as their kiss deepened. After several minutes, they broke apart -

"Hold that thought, gorgeous girl... "

"Promises, promises," she replied, looking flirtatiously up at him through her long eyelashes as they started to circle the floor again.

"Come on - slow, slow, quick quick slow... " encouraged their teacher.

"It's lovely to have an evening alone with you, even if you insist on making me come out to fall over my own feet," he grudgingly admitted.

"Enjoy it while you can..." He quirked an eyebrow at her - "There's going to be another Branson, my love - I'm pregnant."

As Tom lifted Sybil off the floor and twirled her joyfully around in his arms, the old couple next to them watched and smiled. After all these years, they could tell a lot about people from the way they danced the tango and they could see that this young couple had already mastered the first rule - to embrace your partner as though you are about to dance the dance of your life.


	3. Hidden treasures

_Author's note -_

Thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this collection so far! I really love to hear from you - please do keep telling me what you think. :)

A Sybil x Tom Rock the Easter AU ficlet - sometimes, only Bransons fluff will do! Dedicating this to the lovely mimijag - a great friend and fellow S/T author.

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**Hidden treasures**

"Oh, Aislín, not again, my sweetheart."

Sybil sighed as she cleaned up after her daughter. Tom had been called urgently into work to write the lead article on a breaking scandal in the Dáil, and she had spent most of Easter Saturday evening alone with a grizzly six month old who had just thrown up for the second time.

The doctor in her knew that Aislín only had a little fever, soon cured with some baby paracetamol, but even so she had been tempted to call her husband and ask him to come home. She had resisted picking up the phone so far, reasoning that the sooner he finished work, the sooner he could be with his family.

She walked over to the bedroom cupboard to try and find some clean linens, reaching up to the top shelf where she could see some towels had been shoved in. As she pulled, they all tumbled down on top of her, and something hard in the pile of towels bounced off her head and onto the floor.

Rubbing her head, she looked down and saw a box tied with a ribbon. She picked it up and put it on the table before lifting the baby from her cradle and wrapping her in a soft, fresh towel.

"Is that better, darling?" Aislín opened her tear-filled eyes and looked at her mother. "Let's go and look at the box, shall we?"

Sybil sat down, holding her daughter in the crook of her arm and rocking her a little as she untied the bow that held the box closed and lifted its lid. Inside was what seemed at first glance to be a random collection of objects, but on closer inspection each little item was revealed to be rich in meaning.

A smile bloomed on her face as she picked up two ticket stubs for "Sherlock Holmes", the first movie she and Tom had seen together. There was a coaster from the Lamb and Flag, the pub in Central London where they had first met, with her phone number scribbled on the back in eyeliner. A folded photo caught her eye from their first weekend away, of herself with wind-ruffled hair, looking out over the railing of Brighton Pier. _I didn't know he took this!_

Digging deeper into the box, she found a CD of _The Suburbs_ that she had burned for him after an Arcade Fire concert they both remembered as one of the best gigs of their lives, not just for the music but also because Tom had proposed to her during "No Cars Go". A silk gardenia she had worn in her hair when she had been a bridesmaid for her sister Mary lay beside a match book from a restaurant on the Place des Vosges, where they had eaten a memorable dinner during their babymoon in Paris just before Aislín's birth.

Still more treasures were revealed - a boarding pass from the flight they had taken when moving to Dublin, an order of service from their wedding in the local parish church a few months later. At the bottom of the box, she found a sheet of hospital notepaper with their daughter's first footprints on it, which made tears pour in earnest down her cheeks.

A key turned in the front door lock. "Sybil? I'm home. Where are you?"

She didn't answer, cuddling a now sleeping Aislín in her arms. He came into the bedroom and found them.

"Darling, what is it? What's wrong?" He leaned down to kiss her. "What have you got... oh, I see."

"Sweetheart, I've been crying like a baby, like our baby, looking through it."

Tom shrugged off his jacket and took Sybil's hand. Leading her to their bed, he lay back against the headboard and pulled them both gently into his embrace. He ran one finger down her cheek, pushing a stray curl behind her ear.

"I'm glad you found it – I made it for you as an anniversary present, but today's just as good. Do you like it?"

"It's just perfect, thank you, I love it! All those wonderful memories..."

Their eyes met and locked as he slid his finger under her chin, bringing her face closer to his. At the movement, their daughter stirred between them and began to whimper, hungry for her supper.

Tom helped Sybil unfasten her shirt and bra before shifting his position slightly, curving his arms around them both so that she could rest against him while she nursed their child. The young mother cradled Aislín's head in her hand as she started to suckle, the expression on her face making him catch his breath.

"Isn't she beautiful, darling?"

"Of course - she takes after her mother."

She smiled and blushed a little at his words, then settled back against his chest. For a while the room was silent except for their baby's gentle snuffling as she fed.

Reaching into his shirt pocket, Tom pulled out something small, slowly bringing it into Sybil's field of vision as she switched Aislín to her other breast.

"What... oh, Tom, a mini gold bunny! My favourite."

He unwrapped it with one hand and popped it into her mouth. "Happy Easter, Sybil - it's nearly midnight so I think it counts."

Her lips tasted of chocolate as he kissed her. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around his wife and child - _Every waking minute, my love..._

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_A/N - _

The Dáil is the Irish Republic's name for the lower house of their Parliament.

I was partly inspired by one of my fave movies, "Amelie", for this story, remembering how she finds the treasure box in her bathroom wall and sets out to find the owner.


	4. Speed of sound

_Author's note -_

Thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this collection so far! I really love to hear from you - please do keep telling me what you think. :)

This fic was originally posted on Tumblr a while back, in response to a prompt from the Yankee Countess for an accidental kiss.

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**Speed of sound**

"OK, everyone, time to change over. Figure skaters, come back in please - hockey practice starts in 15 minutes."

The voice over the tannoy echoed around the arena as the members of the London Devils squad clattered down the tunnel towards the rink. Tom Branson's eye was caught by a girl in the centre of the ice, her wild curls flying loose behind her as she accelerated into a jump. She landed perfectly on one foot, then moved directly into a spin, bending backwards from the waist as her hands reached up, one leg extended behind her. He had never seen such grace, such beauty.

He felt a nudge - "See something you like, mate?"

"Feck off, Will. Come on, lads - let's get out on the ice!"

Tom had spent a year on exchange in Chicago while he was at university, and the Blackhawks games he saw had taught him to love the exhilaration of ice hockey and inspired him to learn how to skate. He had joined a league in North London when he got home and it was part of his Thursday night routine during the season to meet up with his team mates at Alexandra Palace for a rough and tumble training session with plenty of good natured biffo, followed by a beer or three at the Phoenix afterwards.

The team pushed their way through the barrier and onto the ice. Tom noticed the lace on one of his skates was coming untied, so he lagged behind the others as he bent down to fix it.

He lifted his head and saw the beautiful girl he'd noticed before, skating fast as she made her way to the gate. As he stood up, he saw one of her skates catch on a rough patch of ice, and her face changed from a confident grin to a slightly panicked, glazed stare as she realised she was careering out of control.

"Look out!"

Before he knew what was happening, she cannoned straight into him and shoved him backwards into the barrier, hard. His arms wrapped instinctively around her as their bodies crashed together, trying to keep her safe. Her face collided with his in her headlong rush, and he felt her lips and teeth bruising his mouth in an unexpected kiss.

His rational mind told him to pull away, apologise, deflect the whole thing with a joke. He didn't know this girl, had never even seen her before - what the hell was he doing? But his instincts screamed at him - _Don't let her go! - _and that was the part of his brain he listened to.

"MMMMmmmm…"

One hand slid up from her waist, tangling in her long hair as he cupped the back of her head. She moved into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and closing her eyes as he tightened his other arm around her. Her warm mouth tasted wonderful and he quickly deepened their kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth. Her slender, yielding body strained against his, all along its length, her legs tangling with his on the ice. The feel of her breasts pushing into his chest sent a lightning strike up and down his spine and, as he heard her moan softly, he felt dizzy with desire. _Christ, I never had a kiss like this before!_

Their lips parted for a moment and he kept his eyes closed, heart pounding, breathing in the warm scent of her hair as he leaned his forehead against hers. Then, before he could say or do anything, she pulled him back to her and they kissed again, even more fiercely this time. The busy rink faded away around him as she overwhelmed his senses.

William looked around for his friend and chuckled when he saw what was going on. "Wait a sec," he said to the rest of the team.

He headed back to the side of the rink, spraying ice chips everywhere as he executed a perfect hockey stop before beckoning over Jimmy who was still fiddling with his skates. "Jimmy, oi! Can you do something for me…"

In a few minutes, a familar tune was heard around the arena - _"Do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do, do do do do, do doooooo! CHARGE!"_

A spotlight shone down from the ceiling, picking out the young couple so passionately entwined at the edge of the ice, as the classic ice hockey "rev up" organ music played and a round of applause rose up from the other skaters and the onlookers in the stands. Even then, it took a few minutes for Tom to register that he and the girl in his arms were now the centre of attention for the entire arena.

He reluctantly broke their kiss and pulled away from her a little, one arm still around her. The girl's eyes slowly opened and, as they met his, he could not stop an amazed smile breaking out all over his face. She returned his smile and he felt her hand sliding into his -

"I got you," he whispered.

"No you don't, I got YOU!"

She squeezed his hand and winked at him, before turning around and skating away to the exit without a backward glance. His eyes followed her as she disappeared under the stands.

_Who is she?_

After practice, during which he had copped several not-so-subtle comments from his team mates, he walked back down the tunnel to the change room, skates looped over his hand. His eyes were caught by a series of photos on the wall, of various figure skaters in action on the ice, and he saw the girl he'd shared the astonishing kiss with in the same pose as when he'd first seen her, her body fully extended in a perfect spin. The caption underneath read -

_Sybil Crawley, 2013 Ally Pally ladies' figure skating champion_

He'd already known that he _had_ to find her again - now, here was his first clue.

* * *

_Author's note -_

I hope my American friends can recognise my attempt to render the well known organ music that I understand often gets played at ice hockey games. For anyone who's not sure how it sounds - search for "charge" and hockey on youtube.


	5. She will be loved

_Author's note -_

Thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this collection so far! I really love to hear from you - please do keep telling me what you think. :)

It's been a while since I updated, so I hope you enjoy this fic, which was written in response to a 'school reunion' prompt on Tumblr from zip-goes-a-million. (Thank you!)

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**She will be loved**

Sybil's hand rested on the wooden frame of the door. About to push it open, she stopped herself as painful memories flooded into her mind...

_"__Teacher's pet, teacher's pet!"_

_Cruel chanting filled the air as a group of girls barred Sybil's exit from the classroom._

_"__Does milady want to cry?" __A blonde's mouth curved into a smile as her shot hit its mark._

_Sybil pushed past her and ran to the bathroom in floods of tears..._

Head held high, she walked into the school hall and was immediately swept up in the arms of her friend Anna.

"Sybil, it's you – I'm so glad you made it! Can you believe it's been ten years! Wow, you look gorgeous! Doesn't she, Gwen?"

"Stunning. How do you do it? Come on, let's dance!"

Gwen grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor. Soon, they were jumping around together, singing the well-remembered lyrics along with everyone else.

"My baby don't mess around me  
'Cause she loves me so  
And this I know for sure..."

_Maybe it won't be such a bad night after all!_

* * *

Turning her head a little later to hear Anna's comment over the music, Sybil caught a glimpse of a familiar face and felt her stomach fall to the floor. _She's here, don't let her get to you..._

Edna Braithwaite was walking towards her, followed by Sarah O'Brien. Her chief tormentor from the last years of school, along with her faithful acolyte. For a moment, Edna pretended not to see her, then she playacted a double take, walking towards her with a fake smile on her face.

"Sybil, is that you? My apologies – Lady Sybil? I hardly recognised you."

Sybil forced herself to meet Edna's eyes, silently cursing her tendency to flush under stress.

"I'm sorry, I can't quite..."

Edna saw through that ploy immediately, as shown by her knowing grin.

"Edna, don't you remember? From Mr Carson's class?"

"Of course, how could I forget? And you must be Sarah."

The three of them exchanged tense smiles. As if on cue, a song that made Sybil think of bad days she'd had at the hands of these two and their friends came blaring through the speakers.

"Wake me up inside  
Wake me up inside  
Call my name and save me from the dark..."

"I wasn't sure if you'd come tonight, Sybil. _So_ glad you did, of course." Edna's voice dripped with insincerity. "What have you been up to since we left school?"

"I'm a doctor, actually – working at St Barts in London. How about you?"

Edna's eyes narrowed, clearly calculating what she could say to try and top Sybil's success. Before she could speak again, Anna chimed in, making Sybil smile gratefully at her friend.

When Gwen got back with the drinks, she found them talking about the boys they had known at school.

"Do you remember that guy a few years above us – the Irish one? Now he was hot, wasn't he?" Gwen flapped her hands in front of her face jokingly.

"Tom Branson, you mean? Oh yes, he was super hot." Edna smirked in a way that may have been cute a decade before but which seemed out of place now. "He kissed me once, did you know that?"

"When did that happen?" Anna sounded disbelieving.

"It was at a school dance. I was standing right over there," she pointed towards the edge of the dance floor, "and he came towards me. He grabbed my hand and kissed me in front of everyone."

"You're kidding! What happened then?"

"Well, nothing, unfortunately, because it was the end of the night and my Dad was waiting outside, and he left school after that. But I'm pretty sure he had a crush on me, I could tell by the way he looked at me." Edna looked smug as only she could.

"I heard that too, Thomas Barrow told me. You know he always had the latest gossip in those days," Sarah added loyally. "Is Thomas here tonight, do you know?"

"I haven't seen him. Probably over by the bar, if he's anywhere," suggested Gwen. "Come on Sybil, let's go and say hello to Mr Carson."

"See you later." Edna tossed her head, already losing interest.

_Not if I see you first!_ Somehow, the juvenile response made Sybil feel better.

* * *

At the end of the night, Sybil came outside, shivering in the cool air. She felt strong arms wrapping around her from behind and warm lips pressing a kiss to the back of her neck.

"How was your night, sweetheart? Had a good time?"

She turned around, smiling. "More than I thought I would. I ran into Anna and Gwen, they're great, remember I told you about them? We must all go out together one night."

"Sure, that sounds like fun." She put a hand on his cheek as he leaned forward to kiss her.

When they broke apart, she opened her eyes, to find someone else's surprised gaze on her. "Edna – come and meet my husband, Tom Branson. Oh wait, you two already know each other, don't you?"

Now it was Edna's turn to blush as she and Tom shook hands. "Your... husband, did you say?"

"Sorry, I'm not sure if I recall..." Tom looked confused.

"It's been a long time. Well, I have to go, don't want to miss the last train, nice seeing you again!" Edna couldn't get away fast enough, almost running down the street.

Sybil turned to Tom. "Edna told me you kissed her at a school dance. According to her, you had a crush on her. Do you really not remember?"

She saw recognition dawn on his face. "Hmm, if she told you I kissed her... well, let's just say I remember it quite differently."

"What do you mean?"

"I was coming off the dance floor and suddenly this girl I'd never seen before threw herself at me. I tried to avoid her but she grabbed my hand and her lips did kind of brush over my cheek. That was it, believe me."

"And the crush?"

He grinned at her – "Sybil, darling, the only person I ever had a crush on at school was you."

"You had a crush on me? But I..."

"You what?"

"Tom, I had the most massive crush on you! Surely you knew that?"

"I had no idea, I thought you didn't want to know me, you'd never even look at me."

"That's because I was too shy! Miss Goody-Two-Shoes couldn't meet anyone's eye back then, let alone yours."

He pulled her closer. "It's just as well I ended up in casualty at St Barts' that night, isn't it? I might never have found you again."

"I can't believe we never talked about this before! So, you had a crush on me, did you?" She flicked her hair over her shoulder, putting her hand on his arm as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. "What would have happened if I'd tried this on you back then?"

He didn't answer, not directly. Instead, he growled, bending her backwards and kissing her deeply enough to make her head spin and her knees buckle.

"Good move, Branson. I might just have fallen for you at school if you'd done that!" She laughed up at him, trying to regain her self-possession, when he let her go.

"I wonder if you've still got your school uniform at home somewhere. Shall we have a look?" He winked, running his hand down her side to tickle her and making her giggle. Then, they wrapped their arms around each other and walked towards the car, with the last song of the night still playing through the open doorway.

"Look for the girl with the broken smile  
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile  
And she will be loved  
And she will be loved..."

* * *

_Author's note -_

Rather than using my own music collection as inspiration this time, I've been looking back through the list of songs that were popular a decade ago in the UK to imagine what a playlist for Sybil's 10 year school reunion might sound like. :)

The lyrics quoted come from the following songs (in order): "Hey Ya!" by Outkast, "Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence, and "She Will Be Loved" by Maroon 5, which also gave me the story title. (They can all be found on youtube if you want to remind yourself!)


	6. Luck of the Irish

_Author's note -_

Thank you so much to everyone who has read/followed/reviewed/favourited this collection so far! I really love to hear from you - please do keep telling me what you think. :)

Sorry for the gap between updates - life's been a bit full on lately, but I was inspired to write a new chapter for this set to celebrate St Patrick's Day, since I imagine it is a very special day for our lovely Bransons. The fic is based on a 'leprechaun' prompt from the lovely shana-rosee (thank you!).

* * *

**Luck of the Irish**

"I'm going to kill you for this, Nugent."

"Come on, Tommy boy - you know it's your turn! Don't take yourself so seriously."

The tall redhead tipped his friend a wink before ringing the bell behind the bar and walking out to the little stage at the end of the room. He tapped the microphone, which gave a burst of static.

"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please! Last orders, last orders if you will. But before you go - in keeping with the Auld Shillelagh St Patrick's Day tradition, here's our resident leprechaun for the evening, Tom Branson, to grant three wishes!"

Tom followed the same path as Alfred, reluctantly putting on the tall green hat handed to him by his friend. Ready for his ritual humiliation at the hands of the raucous crowd in the pub, he stepped forward into the spotlight.

"Is that a rainbow in your pocket or are you just pleased to see us?" called a voice at the back, raising ripples of laughter like a stone dropped into a pond.

"Quiet down please, ladies and gentlemen, quiet down. Now for the first of the wishes - a song!"

"Come on, all together now!" Tom began to sing, in a baritone good enough for Alfred to raise his eyebrows appreciatively.

"I've been a wild rover for many's the year,  
And I've spent all my money on whiskey and beer,  
But now I'm returning with gold in great store,  
And I never will play the wild rover no more..."

Amid plenty of banter, Tom got through the first verse and chorus more or less unscathed, many in the audience joining in before the end.

Alfred kept things moving. "Next - a joke!"

"Why can't you borrow money from a leprechaun?" Tom deadpanned.

"Because they're always a little short!" came the shouted reply from just about everyone.

He'd won the room over by now, and there was a burst of good natured applause and laughter, which he acknowledged with an ironic bow.

"And the traditional last wish - a lucky kiss for an unknown maiden!"

Alfred walked over to Tom, pulling a blindfold from his pocket and tying it onto him, and stepped to the front of the stage. He shaded his eyes with his hand so he could see past the spotlight out into the darkened room beyond.

"All right then, which of you lovely ladies wants a lucky kiss from our leprechaun?"

Tom heard a few voices in the crowd, and a chant from over by the bar that he couldn't quite catch. Then, Alfred spoke.

"You there, the brunette trying to hide behind the pillar… up you come!"

Tom could hear a voice protesting and a couple more voices urging the unknown girl forward. Then, he heard footsteps coming up the stairs to the stage.

"Ladies and gentleman, can I have your attention please! This lovely maiden will get a kiss from our leprechaun which will bring her luck all year round."

Tom waited, taking off his hat, unsure what to expect. He felt a tendril of warm breath against his cheek, a hand coming to rest on his shoulder. Only then did a pair of full lips, tasting a little of whiskey, press against his own from below. Instinctively, he tipped his face downwards, seeking their softness.

As they kissed, he breathed in her scent, which was sweet and somehow familiar - _a flower, maybe?_ The sensation of each one of her fingers moving to stroke the back of his neck made the short hairs there stand on end. Her other hand slid down from his shoulder to his arm, resting on his bicep and squeezing gently as she stepped forward, bringing her body flush against his.

He couldn't help reaching out to wrap his arms around her. The curve of her waist fell perfectly under his hand as he slid it to the small of her back, while he traced his other hand slowly up and down her spine. Her lips parted under his and a sigh escaped her as she pushed herself even closer to him. The feel of her breasts, pressing against his chest through their shirts, made his head start to spin.

"Mmmmhhh..."

He groaned into her mouth. She responded by bringing her hand up from his neck to behind his head, gently scratching his scalp beneath the blindfold and sending tingles across his skin. The tip of her tongue ran along the edge of his lower lip, then into his mouth to deepen their kiss.

_Christ, she's incredible..._

Running his fingers up her spine again, he tangled them in her silky waves of hair, pulling her head back a little. He sucked her tongue all the way into his mouth, moving his own along hers. Their ragged breaths mingled in his lungs as his body hummed with desire.

Just as Tom was tightening his arms around the girl even more, Alfred brought him back to reality by putting a hand on his shoulder and clearing his throat ostentatiously.

"A little over-eager from our leprechaun - perhaps that's the St Patrick's Day spirit taking over there," Alfred said into the mic, pulling Tom's arm so that he reluctantly stepped back and let his hands fall to his sides. He realised then that the crowd had fallen silent for the first time that night, watching the kiss.

"Let's see your unknown maiden now, shall we?" Alfred lifted the blindfold, and Tom had his first sight of the girl's face. Star-bright eyes, rosy lips still parted, creamy skin suffused with a soft flush, she was a sprite from the land of faerie, fallen to earth to bewitch mortal men. And he was already under her spell.

"Milady," he murmured, lifting her hand to his lips, letting them linger on her skin and keeping hold of her hand when the kiss ended. She blushed and dropped her eyes, her long eyelashes brushing over her cheeks, then looked directly at him with a gaze that he couldn't break.

"Umm... may I offer you a drink?" Tom stammered, feeling uncharacteristically tongue-tied as he stared at her like a schoolboy.

"Thank you, Mr Leprechaun, that would be lovely." He led her from the stage and over to the bar, where he poured two shots of Black Bush from a bottle standing nearby.

Lifting his glass, he clinked it against hers, watching her make that down-up look again, then brush a stray curl away from her face. He found his fingers itching to do it for her, to touch her dark hair one more time.

"What's your name?" He sipped his drink, trying to recover his composure in small talk.

"Sybil. And yours?"

"Tom. So... what brings you here tonight to our fine establishment?"

"My friends from nursing college dragged me here. See, there they are!" Sybil waved across the room to two girls, a blonde and a redhead, both of whom were giving her enthusiastic thumbs-up signs.

"Well, I've something to thank them for then, don't I?"

Her eyes locked with his. "So do I." His heart raced in his chest as that same intoxicating smile curved her lips, making him long to kiss her again.

"Have you been working here long?"

"For a year or so - it's decent money and I live nearby, helps to keep the wolf from the door while I finish my thesis."

"What's it about?"

"Twentieth century history and politics, focusing on the Irish War of Independence."

"I don't know much about that, but it sounds fascinating." She gave him a measured glance, then spoke again.

"I do have one question, though..."

"Anything."

"I think I've been short changed, Mr Leprechaun. Aren't I supposed to get a pot of gold?"

"Hmmm, a good point." Tom thought for a moment. "How about I treat you to a bag of chips instead?" He found himself holding his breath, waiting for her answer.

She nodded just as Alfred came up beside her. He gave Tom a grin.

"I'll lock up tonight, mate - you've already done your part of the festivities!"

"Thanks Alfred, I owe you." The two friends exchanged a wink.

Tom offered Sybil his hand, and she took it. The feeling of her fingers wrapping around his sent a rush of joy through his body, something he hadn't felt in a long time.

As he opened the door for her, he looked back at Alfred. _If a bit of that famous Irish luck comes my way, I might owe you more than you know..._

* * *

_A/N - _

This is based on a real pub in North London - famous for its drink and its craic on St Patrick's Day! Although I'm not sure if they have a resident 'leprechaun'. :) The song Tom sings is "The Wild Rover", a traditional Irish drinking song - you can find it on youtube.


	7. With you forever

_Author's note -_

*waves sheepishly* Apologies, I haven't updated this one in a while! Thank you as always for your feedback on this story collection, I really love to hear from you.:)

This was one of those ideas that come to you sometimes, and just won't quit - I had to write it! It's a season 3 AU (and remember, it's me...).

* * *

**With you forever**

Tom Branson stood in the nursery at Downton Abbey, leaning over his daughter's cradle.

He still couldn't believe that he was a father, that the woman he loved so deeply had married him and given birth to this perfect child. His elbow was bruised from the pinches he had given himself.

The baby was sleeping peacefully as he reached in to stroke her soft, fine hair and began to sing a lullaby he remembered from his own childhood:

_"I'd rock my own sweet childie to rest in a cradle of gold on a bough of the willow,  
To the shoheen ho of the wind of the west and the lulla lo of the soft sea billow.  
Sleep, baby dear, Sleep without fear:  
Father is here beside your pillow."_

The little girl stirred at the sound, and opened her blue-grey eyes wide to look at him. Eyes so like Sybil's, he felt a tear trickle down his cheek.

_Does she know me? Does she remember my voice, from when she was growing inside her mother?_

Whether she knew him or not, she was meeting his gaze, calm and unafraid. And he couldn't resist picking her up – carefully, so as not to let her fall.

She settled into his arms, one tiny hand clasping his thumb. As he took a seat in the windowsill, she fell back into sleep. He began to sing again, even more quietly:

_"Lulla lo! to the rise and fall of father's breast 'tis sleep has bound you,  
And oh, my child, what cosier nest for rosier rest could love have found you?  
Sleep, baby dear, Sleep without fear:  
Father's two arms are clasped around you."_

For a moment, he allowed himself to linger on the events of her birth. Her mother's fierce struggle to bring her into the world, his own gut-wrenching fear that he would lose everything he loved in a cruel moment, and then...

He heard the door open and looked up, expecting to see Mary come in.

But it wasn't Mary.

It was his precious wife standing there before him.

Slowly she moved, her eyes veiled, the trauma she had survived writ large on her pale face. A tired smile curved her mouth as she saw him, and he smiled back at her, feeling an ache of joy to see her up and about again.

"Sybil? Darling, should you be out of bed? I thought Dr Clarkson said..."

"I know, I know. I am supposed to rest for a week. But I haven't even seen our daughter properly yet! Do you really think I could stay away from her?"

Sybil crossed the floor, and a look of pain creased her brow, a dark shadow across the sun, before she pushed it resolutely away. The sight of it made Tom's heart flutter in his chest.

_If it's possible, I think I love her even more now..._

"Come here, sweetheart. Sit with us."

With the arm that wasn't holding the baby, he beckoned her towards him. She took a seat beside him gratefully, snuggling into his side and looking up at him.

"Can I hold her? I'm not sure if I can do it alone..."

Without a word, he lifted the baby into her arms, encircling them both in his own embrace.

She leaned her head on his shoulder as she looked at their child. The glow of motherhood illuminated her face, giving her an almost unearthly beauty that filled him with awe.

"What were you singing when I came in, love? It was beautiful."

"An old Irish lullaby. Listen, there's one more verse..."

_"I'd put my own sweet childie to sleep in a silver boat on the beautiful river,  
Where a shoheen whisper the white cascades, and a lulla lo the green flags shiver.  
Sleep, baby dear, Sleep without fear:  
Mother is here with you forever."_

She stayed silent for a moment at the end of the song, then sighed as she spoke.

"That's so wonderful, Tom. I love the words... I promise you, I promise both of you. I will love you always, just as I do now. I'll be with you forever."

He kissed the top of her head and tightened his arms around her and their daughter, struggling to keep the emotion from his voice.

"Me too, my beautiful girls. I love you both so much, I'm so lucky to be your husband, your father. I'll do whatever I have to, to take care of you, to work hard, to win back a life for us."

Tom and Sybil didn't talk any more after that. They sat in silence, cuddled close, their hearts too full for words as they stared at their daughter and dreamed of their future. A future that was theirs to create.

* * *

_A/N -_

This idea came to me when I discovered the beautiful, rather melancholy Irish lullaby by Alfred Perceval Graves that Tom is singing in this story. I used a bit of artistic licence with the lyrics but it's basically correct. If you look on youtube for "Irish Lullaby by Bill Douglas", you should find it.

Thank you to Allen Leech Online for the beautiful picture I used to illustrate this story on Tumblr. And – I hope you knew this would end happily when you started reading it (that was my hint at the start) - don't forget, in my fics, Lady Sybil _always_ lives!


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